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“Put those fingers back.”
“August—”
“Put them back,” I order before I walk around the bed, my cock jutting lewdly against my boxer briefs. “I told you, you’re a guest in my house so you’re going to follow my rules. Put. Your. Fingers. Back.”
She does. She plunges them into her cunt and begins finger fucking herself in earnest while she watches me, her focus dancing between my face and my erect length. The desire in her gaze is undeniable—she really does want this.
“Good girl,” I murmur, nodding with approval. “Now you can ask your question again.”
“The deal,” she clarifies. “Why did you want me? How did you know I would be worth it?”
I hesitate. She’s not asking me to tell her I wanted her because she’s radiant and has a body I’ve lost sleep over. She’s not asking if I thought she would be a phenomenal lay. She’s asking how I knew she would be worth it. Worth the hassle. Worth the time. Worth the money.
She wants to know what drew me to her.
I reach out and I grab her wrist, stilling her hand. At first, her brow pulls together in alarm like she thinks she disappointed me. But she sees my soft mien—one I so rarely wear—and her face softens too. “You made me angry. I wanted to teach you a lesson,” I admit, being honest this time. “But more importantly, you’re not afraid of me.”
“Is everyone?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know why. You’re not…”
“What? I’m not cruel? Intimidating? Not as cunning as I look?”
She shakes her head. “You’re good, August. Nobody has ever told you that, have they?”
Something in me breaks loose. How can Julia believe I’m good after everything I’ve put her through? She should loathe me. She should detest me. I intended for her to do both.
And yet that stupid, four-letter word does a number on me. Good.
All my life, I’ve avoided being good. I’ve been great. Brilliant. Unparalleled. Fucking king. But good?
“Thank you,” I murmur. Nothing else seems appropriate.
Carefully, I release her wrist. Straightening my spine, I raise my chin at her. “You good?”
She nods, recognizing the gravity of what I’m saying—that I allowed her to get under my skin when so few can. “I’m good,” she confirms.
“Good.”
The word means something to us, I realize. Good is our word. Our plain, perfect word.
Leaning down, I brush her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. She stares back at me, taking in my face before a small smile forms on hers.
“So are we going to keep talking,” I ask, “or do you want my cock back in your pussy now that you’ve spent all this time stretching it out?”
Julia responds by handing me her vibrator. “Get rid of that.”
“Say please, brat.”
“Please,” she replies, drawing out the word mockingly until I crush my mouth against hers in a bruising kiss that leaves her gasping.
“Safe word,” I demand against her lips.
“Paris.”
I pull her into my arms before I flip onto my back, determined to have her ride me to climax tonight. She wastes no time climbing on top of me and sliding me into her, exactly the way I wanted her to. I groan while she works my length inside her body. She bears her weight down on me, taking me full hilt, and everything around me disappears. It’s only Julia, me, and the bed beneath us—and it’s glorious.
